Kate H.
Yelp
Full disclosure: my return to New York occurred shortly before Penelope opened, and I lived less than a block away. Before it closed, and reopened, it was THE go to restaurant in Murray Hill for breakfast and brunch.
I don't know what happened after its reopening, As I like to say, when the mighty fall, they fall hard. That Penelope doesn't take reservations, requires all parties to be present before seating, and has are you kidding?! wait times on the weekend reflects two things: local residents are lazy (because there are a helluva lot of seated restaurants in Kips Bay and Murray Hill today, and I don't mean only diners), and the staff and management are grateful for the location, which encourages laziness.
My last meal ever at Penelope happened this morning.
My friends and I were told that the special was crab cakes Benedict served on a croissant. The friend who doesn't eat animal protein, other than fish and eggs, ordered the aforementioned diah.
So you know, this crab cakes Benedict includes prosciutto.
I know. We didn't get it either.
When the meals were served, and my friend tried to consume the eggs and crab and hollendaise and pork (because as fancy and thinly sliced as prosciutto may be, it's still pig), and he couldn't, we eventually (because on the busiest day in the breakfast-lunch restaurant world, one (or two) servers is all that were on the floor) hailed our server, who may as well have refused to ask the kitchen to make the dish without ham.
We could feel the resentment.
Now, I understand that we were seeking additional labor, for which we apologized and expressed appreciation. Had we been told that crab cakes Benedict at Penelope was bringing items from France (croissant) AND Italy (Prosciutto), along with the poached eggs (someone's factory or farm) and purportedly and hopefully Maryland or Cape Cod (flaked crabmeat), another order would have been placed.
The resentment continued when the new meal was served, accompanied by the explanation that it took longer because the kitchen staff had to make a new plate.
Gosh. You don't say. You mean there wasn't an actual crab cakes Benedict sitting under the heat lamp?
Every job is service. And we can all live happier and easier when we acknowledge our responsibilities - be kind, show respect, provide details, take responsibility, care about results, be true with promises made - especially in hectic, super crowded, and inappropriately entitled places like Manhattan (and most of Brooklyn).
I tipped with cash, which I am wont to do. And I will not return to Penelope. Ever again.